Sweet B, Season Two
by somethingmeaningful
Summary: "Season Two" of Sweet B, or as many of you know it, 13. Enjoy!


Episode 2.1.

I looked straight into Marshall's eyes. We were having a staring contest and it was getting intense at the moment. I was straddling his thighs, my butt resting on his knees.

"You're going to lose Marshall." I tried to be intimidating.

He didn't blink. Or flinch. For the sake of time, I blinked.

"Oh please Benj. You knew you were going to lose."

He was right.

Despite this, I huffed and rocked backwards away from Marshall. I turned my head away and looked out of my apartment window.

Marshall put his hands on my hips. He pulled my frame closer to his. Instinctually, I wrapped my arms around him and rested my forehead against his.

From my spot on Marshall's lap, I could see my three bags packed, waiting by the door. Seeing them made me sigh.

"I still don't understand why you aren't coming with me to New Orleans."

"Because Benji," Marshall started, "first, I don't feel comfortable going to your cousin's wedding and meeting all of your family with you introducing me as your date. Second, I really don't feel comfortable going as your date when we aren't even really dating."

I assessed his reasons in my head for what seemed to be fiftieth time.

I did agree that it would be very difficult introducing my entire family, including my parents, to this random guy I had been "seeing" for the past few months. Where I didn't agree was the second reason. As far as I was concerned, we were dating. I just think Marshall is waiting for me to say this because I'm the one who had wanted to go slow. Which we were. But, I knew that I wouldn't be confident enough to ever make anything official, so I just waited for him to do something.

So that's where we were in our "relationship." At somewhat of a standstill. A staring contest if you will.

I got off of Marshall's lap and walked over to my tote bag to check it one last time for everything.

"Benjamin."

"What Marshall Lee?"

"Benjamin. Come here."

I simultaneously loved and hated Marshall calling me by my real name. I shuffled back over to my couch where Marshall was. I plopped down next to him.

"I'm not upset okay. I just really don't like the excuse of 'we aren't dating so I can't be your date.'"

"Okay. But you know that we aren't officially dating because we're taking it slow right?"

I threw my head backwards on the couch. When we started this small fling, we agreed that no matter what, there had to be communication so that we could know what was going on and where we were going. Sometimes I hated this "open-communication policy."

"Aren't we dating though Marshall? We go on dates and hang out and do couple-y stuff."

"Nothing's official until we both agree. That's what we said right?"

"Right."

"So, as of right now, we aren't really anything."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"You have an awesome butt."

"Thanks." I rested my head on Marshall's shoulder.

It wasn't comforting to know that the guy I had been seeing for the past 3 months or so didn't think we were anything. I had hoped that the summer break would be good for us in defining our relationship but, as of halfway through June, it didn't.

Marshall's hand began massaging the back of mine.

I shut my eyes.

After a few minutes, Marshall stopped rubbing my hand.

"It's 2. We should leave for the airport soon."

Marshall was right. My flight for New Orleans left at 4:30, but I was paranoid about being late and missing my flight.

"Yeah."

We both propelled ourselves forward off of the couch. I hugged Marshall when we were both upright. I hoped that after this trip to New Orleans, we could define our relationship. Marshall of course always had guys interested in him, and it worried me that he would go for someone who was more stable in who they are and drop this long-term project that was me.

We separated from the hug, and made for my bags. Marshall grabbed my large suitcase and the backpack I was taking. I grabbed my tote and we headed out of my apartment. We took a sharp right turn out of the apartment and were automatically in the parking garage of my complex. I pressed the button to unlock my car. I opened the passenger side back seat and placed my tote on the floorboard behind the seat. Marshall put my suitcase and backpack on the back seat itself.

As he finished, I closed the door and handed him my keys. He was going to watch Mocha for the week that I was in New Orleans and would be driving my car. I trusted him enough as a friend to watch my cat and drive my car. It was totally platonically based though. He wasn't my boyfriend so I couldn't say that my boyfriend was watching my apartment. Whatever. I'm not upset.

Marshall backed out of the parking spot and threw the car into drive. He accelerated and drove out of the garage.

"You know to feed Mocha every-"

"Morning. Yes. I know. And water the basil and tomatoes on your balcony every other day with a half a cup of water. And scrape the sides of the freezer on Thursday. I listen babe."

Babe? See this was why I was frustrated. Because he says things like "we aren't anything," and "it's not official until we both agree," then calls me babe. To me it seemed like he was ready and willing to start something. And to me it seemed like I was giving off the vibes that I was also ready and willing to start something. Stupid Marshall.

"Thank you honey."

The rest of the car ride was awkward. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Marshall's company, but I wasn't sure that I liked it when he was acting like this. Like a total butt who just wanted me to say that I wanted to date him.

As we pulled up to the drop off lane at the airport, Marshall put the car in park. I got out of the car and opened the back seat. I pulled out all three of my bags and stacked them on each other. I leaned through the open passenger side door and rested my elbows on the seat.

Marshall turned to me and leaned. He was wearing dark green tank top that had a white pocket sewn on it. His arms were really nice. Really defined and he had this little mole thing on his upper right arm. It was really cute. I noticed it the last time we were snuggling. He was wearing his glasses today because he didn't have much to do that day other than take me to the airport. He really should wear them more often. He had on really short khaki cutoffs. They showed off his legs. That were really nice.

I returned the lean and kissed Marshall.

I smiled. I couldn't be mad at the kid. His cuteness was enough to melt my anger.

"Bye. Take care of my cat."

"Have a fun flight dear. Call me when you land."

I shut the door and swung my backpack on. I grabbed my sunglasses from their hanging place on the front of my shirt. I pulled my tote on my shoulder and began to roll towards the entrance of the airport.

Glancing back, I saw Marshall still watching me. I waved to him goodbye. He blew me a kiss. I turned back towards the doors and rolled my eyes.

I felt my phone vibrate in my butt pocket. I pulled it out. It was a message from Marshall.

_Don't roll your eyes at me. Also, your butt looks really good in khaki._

I turned back to glare at him. As I did, he immediately pulled out from his parking spot and left the airport. He had picked out this outfit for me, so he obviously liked it.

He picked out this wide mouthed three-quarters length shirt with navy and white stripes. Then he threw the khakis that I wore on our second date at me and told me that I should buy 50 more pairs of these and wear them all the time. For shoes, he threw a pair of red Keds at me. It was a cute outfit although I looked like a sailor. A really flamboyant, Marshall Lee inspired sailor.

I entered the airport. It was busy, like airports always are. It had been ages since I had gone to the airport, so I made my way for a welcome desk near the hub of the mass of people getting ready to fly or ready to return home.

The line at the welcome desk was three people long, so I took the fourth spot. The woman behind the desk looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She had her brown hair in a tight bun-like ponytail thing. She had a green polo with the name of the airport embroidered on the left of it. I couldn't make out the name on her name tag that rested underneath the embroidery.

It took the first and second people in line about 5 minutes to get their questions answered. The third person was actually with the woman who was second, so I found myself at the front of the line.

"Hello there! How can I help you?"

Helene. Her name was Helene. She sat before a computer and a telephone. There was a wall protecting both of these electronics, with a small opening where confused guests would stand and get clarification.

"Hi! I haven't flown in ages, could you tell me what to do?"

"Of course! Do you know what airline you're flying today?"

"Delta."

She clicked something on her computer.

"Okay, and which flight for Delta?"

"The 4:30 to New Orleans."

She again clicked something on her computer.

"Benjamin Gumm?"

I was a little taken aback. How did she know my name?

"Y-yes. How'd you know?"

She smiled, "your tote bag."

I then remembered my tote was monogrammed with my initials.

"Oh, right." I laughed.

"So, you're going to be headed that way," Helene pointed to her left, "and look for terminal 15. Then go up to the Delta desk there and check in. Do you have your confirmation number and a picture ID?"

I nodded. I had brought a separate folder for that.

"Then after you get checked in, they'll hand you your boarding passes. After that, go get your bags checked and then you'll be set to go. Just wait for them to call your flight and get onto the plane."

I tried to retain all the steps, and then went through the sequence of what I had to do in my head.

"Okay. Thanks so much!"

"Of course. Have a good flight Mr. Gumm!"

She was a nice woman. I guess the airport was working on its image as an immense hell hole.

I followed the steps that she had set out for me. It all seemed simple enough.

I hope that this little trip will be fun. Well as fun as seeing my family could be. My cousin was awesome. We did nearly the same thing; go to school in the south after being raised in New England. She was the oldest cousin, edging me out by only a few months. I hadn't met her fiancé, but from what I heard in our phone conversations and through the grapevine that my mother was, he seemed like a nice guy. She was studying to become a speech pathologist that helped kids whose second language was English. I was jealous that I hadn't thought of that idea first.

By the end of my reflection on my family and the wedding, I found myself sitting on the plane. I guess I followed all of my instructions because I was ready to take off and everything was ready to go.

I breathed slowly through my nose. I tried to let go and prepare myself mentally for New Orleans and for my family. I wondered what Marshall was doing right now.

The short meditation I had was interrupted by a woman's shrill voice saying "Welcome to Delta Flight 356, Austin to New Orleans. We will be taking off here shortly."


End file.
